


Stand Proud

by WhiskersandQuiff



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Gay, Getting Together, LGBT+ Things, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 05:54:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19806097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiskersandQuiff/pseuds/WhiskersandQuiff
Summary: Dan finally got the job he’d always wanted: he was officially the newest curator at the Marquee Art Museum. He already had the perfect idea for his first exhibit and with the much-needed support of his coworker, Phil, he could make it a reality.





	Stand Proud

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the phandomreversebang! Big thank you to [vacationphan](https://vacationphan.tumblr.com/) for betaing and being lovely and awesome! Also thanks to [yiffandquiff](https://yiffandquiff.tumblr.com/), my artist! 
> 
> [Here's the art!](https://yiffandquiff.tumblr.com/post/186284010197/here-is-my-second-art-piece-for-the)

Walking into his new curatorial job for the first time, Dan felt extremely overwhelmed and underqualified. Sure, he wasn’t exactly new to museum work - he’d gone to school for years, done internships all over and worked his way up from a few museum historian jobs. When none of that was working fast enough for him, he started his YouTube channel about art and art history, gaining a few million subscribers quicker than he thought possible. Everything he’d done had been building up to curation, and every step of the way made him more sure that that was what he wanted, solidifying his love of museums and art. The journey had all been to prepare him for that goal, so he should have felt ready -this was what he’d been waiting for his _whole life_.

Dan couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t loved museums. They held overflowing knowledge and laid it all out in interactive exhibits for people to enjoy, and he’d always loved it. He learned so much about so many different things, with topics changing at each new museum he visited. He couldn’t get enough. His favourite, though, would always be art museums.

His earliest memory of going to an art museum he remembered with special fondness; his mother had dragged him along to one to spend time with a friend, but she didn’t expect him to like it. He was barely four years old, after all, so it didn’t seem likely that a quiet, dully-lit museum would hold his attention for long. In fact, she’d been _hoping_ he wouldn’t like it so she would have an excuse to politely extract herself from the outing. 

Alas, it wasn’t meant to be. The very first painting they saw had Dan enchanted. His mother’s friend was chattering on about something neither Howell cared about, but Dan paid her no mind. He just stared up at the painting, in absolute awe of the colours and shapes. When his adult companions tried to move on to the next painting, he wailed, devastated at the thought of having to leave behind something so beautiful. Finally, his mother managed to pick him up and carry him farther into the exhibit before stopping at another painting with her friend. Dan’s tears ceased, eyes widening, as he took in the sight of this new art. 

The painting was of waves crashing in a storm out at sea, a small boat fighting to stay upright in the distance. The canvas was textured with all the layers of paint, and a fascinated Dan reached out to touch it, but his mother was holding him too far away. He kept his arm outstretched despite the failure to actually touch, too fixated on the art to notice. 

For the next several hours, the trio slowly made their way through a few exhibits, stalled by Dan’s wonderment (much to his mum’s chagrin). He wouldn’t remember any of the paintings later, only the feelings of absolute awe and joy that accompanied each piece of art. 

And that was just the beginning of Dan’s art museum experience. Art museums became his favourite place. He’d visit the one nearest to his home any spare moment he had and insisted on exploring new ones in all the cities his family travelled to.

So now, as he finally became a curator at an art museum twenty-three years later, he could not have been more thrilled. The Marquee Art Museum had seen his YouTube videos delving into the history of modern art pieces and decided he was perfect for their new curatorial position. His job would be to curate galleries specifically targeted towards the next generation of museum-goers. They even encouraged him to maintain the channel he loved so much, rather than insisting he quit to focus solely on his work at the museum.

It wasn’t a very big museum, but it all felt so intimidating. Dan was in charge of things now and he’d be working with people- not just that, people would be working _for_ him. Following the receptionist through the museum to the director’s office, he could feel the pressure building. The galleries looked amazing already, so anything Dan added to the legacy would have to be equally as amazing. He hoped he was up to the task. 

As it turned out, he wouldn’t have to be up to it immediately, at least not on his own. The museum director explained how his first few months would progress as soon as he got to her office.

“Since this is your first job in curation, I felt it best that you have a guide,” she began. “I have every faith in your ability, but I want this to be as smooth a transition as possible for you. Our curator of photography, Phil Lester, currently has the least on his plate, so he’ll be helping you acclimate. He’s a lovely chap, so I’m sure you’ll get on beautifully.” 

Dan felt his heart leap in his chest. Phil Lester was a YouTuber like Dan, posting mostly content about museums, but while Dan covered art history, Phil talked about his experiences in museums as both an employee and a visitor. Dan had been following and adoring him for ages, but they’d never met; he was fairly certain Phil didn’t even know he existed. But now they were going to be working together, which was both exciting and terrifying.

His boss shuffled some papers around on her desk, finally finding a file and handing it over to Dan, unaware of the internal freak-out Dan was experiencing. “This has information about what I expect your schedule to be for your first gallery, as well as budget information. Phil will help you look through our art database and come up with a plan. Any questions?”

Dan shook his head. “I think I’ve got it.”

She smiled. “Great. Well, that’s all I have for you for now, so I’ll have Louise take you first to your desk and then over to Phil.”

As Dan left her office and followed Louise, he felt the anxiety rising once more. The pressure of starting this new job was not at all helped by the fact that Dan was about to meet someone he respected and looked up to so much. He’d met other YouTubers before and they could be such snobs sometimes, so he was doubly anxious about meeting Phil. But as soon as Dan saw him, he knew Phil’s internet persona was his real personality and they’d hopefully become fast friends. There was something about the brightness of his eyes and the easiness of his smile that reassured Dan. 

“Phil, this is Dan Howell, the new curator.” 

Dan gave an awkward wave. “Hey, good to meet you. I’ve seen some of your videos - big fan.”

“Oh, really?” Phil said brightly. “I was about to say the same to you!” 

A flush of pride washed over Dan. “Thank you! It means a lot.” 

Louise coughed awkwardly, reminding them she was still there. “Well, I’ll let Phil take over from here so I can get back to my own job. Lovely meeting you, Dan!”

Soon after, they were sitting at Dan’s desk. Phil quickly helped Dan pull up the collections database on his computer. 

“Alright, Dan. What do you have in mind so far?”

He’d been anticipating this question since he’d gotten the job, but he still had no answer. He knew what his dream gallery would be about, but he wasn’t quite ready to commit to any true ideas without knowing what he had at his disposal. He also wasn’t sure he was ready to share something so personal with someone he’d only just met, especially if his idea was rejected on the first day of his dream job and by someone whose work he admired so much.

“I’ve got a few vague ideas in mind, but I need to browse through some art first, I think. If that’s okay, I mean.”

Phil smiled at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “That’s totally fine! Do you want to start anywhere in particular, or shall I choose? Fair warning, though: I’ll probably start with photography.”

Dan chuckled. “Works for me.”

For the next few hours, Phil sat with Dan as he scrolled through the database, chiming in with fun facts about the art as they went. Sometimes it would be interesting historical tidbits, but more often than not it would be funny comments on what the subject of the art was thinking. 

As time went on, Dan saw enough of the kind of art he was looking for that his ideas started to coalesce into a unified theme that he could work with. A particularly inspiring photo finally pushed him over the edge, comforting him enough to make him feel safe sharing his ideas with Phil.

“I’d really love to do a gallery of queer art,” Dan blurted, interrupting Phil’s latest strand of artist facts. “Like, LGBT+, not weird art,” he clarified as Phil remained silent. 

Phil’s eyes were wide with surprise, and for a moment Dan was worried he’d made friends with a homophobe. But then a grin slowly spread across Phil’s features.

“I can’t believe I never thought of doing that! That’s brilliant!” 

Dan let out a relieved sigh. “You really think so?”

Phil nodded enthusiastically. “Of course! What a great way to involve and inspire young adults in the arts! Do you have any more specific thoughts yet, or is it just that so far?”

Clicking a button to bookmark the photo on the database, Dan shrugged, then turned to shyly look at Phil. “Well, I’ve actually been thinking about this for years. As a gay man, I’ve always wanted to see an exhibit of queer art, so I’ve been considering what I might do to curate one for a long time.” He paused, trying to make it seem like he was simply gathering his thoughts before continuing, when in reality he was attempting to gauge Phil’s reaction to his sexuality. He figured Phil wouldn’t react poorly, given his support of the gallery idea so far, but he also knew from experience that he could never be too careful. 

When Phil offered a beaming smile of encouragement, Dan smiled back and relaxed, launching into the meat of his idea. “I want to have this gallery feature as many queer artists as possible and all the art should be about a range of topics within the queer experience,” Dan described, confidence growing as he spoke. “Some of it should be political, some of it should be art for art’s sake, some should describe coming to terms with being queer, and some should just show queer people being happy.” He stared at the picture he still had up on his screen. “Happy like this.”

The picture was a black-and-white photograph of two men dancing together, maybe a waltz, totally lost in each other’s eyes and smiling so fondly that Dan ached to be in love.

When Dan shook himself out of his reverie, he found Phil smiling at him and had to shake himself again; surely, Phil couldn’t be _that_ fond of him already. 

“I really love this idea. I’m gay, too, by the way, so I think it would be great to get some more concentrated representation out there. I’m pretty sure I know of some pieces that would fit already, if you want?”

Dan grinned. He was about to begin the process of curating his dream gallery and it would be by, for, and featuring members of the LGBT+ community. He couldn’t wait. 

“Absolutely.” 

~~~~~~~~~~

For the next few weeks, Dan and Phil were hard at work refining the theme of the gallery and compiling the art for each part. They rarely disagreed on their creative decisions, which was truly a blessing, but when the occasional disagreement arose they easily remained level-headed and could talk through the issue until a compromise was found. 

In the second week, Phil suggested they hang out after work and get to know each other better outside the context of the museum, so they headed to Dan’s flat. A Chinese takeaway dinner and some Ribena later, and they were battling intensely in Mario Kart and laughing hysterically. For the first time in a while, Dan felt perfectly content.

Dinner and Mario Kart nights continued on, mostly as a weekend tradition after the third week.

That was when Phil offered to collaborate with Dan on a few YouTube videos, one for each of their channels. Dan, of course, agreed immediately, so they planned to film on the weekend. Neither of them worked at the museum on weekends, which left them with plenty of time to film and then chill for a while, their friendship growing stronger by the minute.

Back at the museum, the gallery plans were progressing well. Every so often, the significance of what they were putting together would hit one of them. Dan would lean back in his chair, an excited smile growing on his face, wondering at how he’d managed to get to this point.

He’d grown up with such little positive representation and had always desperately craved something, _anything_ to reassure him that being himself was perfectly okay. He couldn’t go back in time and fix his childhood, but he could be a source of hope for young people now, and that meant so much to him. 

But Dan already knew how significant this would be. How could he not? He’d been thinking about curating a gallery like this for over a decade by now. What really warmed his heart was when Phil had moments like that.

The first time it happened, they’d been poring over stacks of photographs by queer artists when Phil froze halfway through lifting one off the pile.

“Phil? Are you okay?”

Phil blinked, his eyes wide and fixed on the next picture he could see. 

“I- It’s- It’s just that, well- This is going to sound totally ridiculous, but this picture feels really important. I’m not sure what it is about it, but I know it’s important.” 

Dan rolled his chair down the table closer to him to take a look at the photo Phil had just uncovered. In the photograph were two men, faces close together. They’d clearly just been kissing, but they were grinning too much to kiss now. 

After a few moments of silence, Phil spoke again.

“I can’t stop thinking about how this could help someone, you know? How it could even be life-changing. In a good way, I mean.”

Dan felt his heart clench. It wasn’t only him; Phil saw the value of what they were putting together and knew they were making a difference. It felt so _good_ to know he wasn’t alone.

“People are gonna see this and know that being gay doesn’t have to be a bad thing. You can be gay and still be happy like anyone else,” Phil continued. “I don’t think enough people have been told that. _I_ wasn’t told that; I had to figure it out myself.”

It hurt to hear Phil say that. He didn’t sound sad, necessarily, but he said it so matter-of-factly that it was like an emotional slap to the face for Dan. It meant that, at some point in his life, Phil hadn’t known that he could be happy being gay. Dan could relate, but the last thing he wanted was for Phil to feel that way, too, and he was so glad it seemed that Phil had learned since then, whenever it was. 

After a quiet moment, Dan softly replied, “Add it to our pile.” He gestured between the photo and the stack of pictures they’d already agreed should be in the gallery. If this photo meant something to Phil, it would mean something to some teenager that wanders through the gallery. “I think this exhibit will do that, too. But I hope it does more. Like, this will be some good representation for LGBT+ visitors to see but it’ll show people who aren’t all that aware of the community the same things.” He absentmindedly straightened a photo that had been bumped before continuing, “This whole thing will basically say, ‘Queer people exist. Choosing not to accept them is not an option.’”

Phil hummed in agreement, already picking up the next picture. “Write that down, we should put it on a text panel somewhere.”

Dan laughed and pulled out his phone to put it in a note. “Saved for later.”

“Good.” Phil nodded, then looked at Dan, a soft smile on his face. “I’m glad to be working on this with you.”

A blush coloured Dan’s cheeks and he found it difficult to hold Phil’s gaze but did long enough to offer a shy smile and a mumbled “Thanks” before rolling his chair back to his spot.

~~~~~~~~~~

After all their planning, the exhibit technicians made quick work of putting everything in place. The night before the opening of the gallery, Dan and Phil checked everything one last time.

It was always hard to get people to follow the “proper” order of the exhibit without flat-out putting numbers, but Dan had made peace with that. Not everyone would experience the exhibit in the same way anyway, so there was no point getting upset over the struggles of enforcing exhibit wayfinding. But he and Phil _had_ curated the exhibit with a specific visitor path in mind, so Dan followed it one more time, experiencing his exhibit as he’d intended.

He started out turning to the left directly inside the gallery and stopping in front of the introductory panel, “Stand Proud” painted on the wall in bold letters. Unlike much of the text in the gallery, Dan had written that panel himself, running it by the museum educator before it was finalized. It talked about the importance of representation and how everyone has a different life story, but this exhibit sought to highlight some of the key unifying factors of the queer experience. 

_If this exhibit helps even one person_ , the text concluded, _we will consider it an enormous success._

Next, Dan moved through the first section of the exhibit, which featured art that told the personal narratives of the artists. Some of it was abstract, showing only vague colours meant to symbolize different phases of life, while some of it was hyperrealistic, depicting detailed tableaus of the ups and downs. 

When they were working through the details, Dan and Phil had agreed that as much as they wanted to make the gallery all about the happy parts of being queer, they had to be true to real life, and that meant art about homophobia. They limited this part to a smaller corner of the exhibit, as much as was possible, because they knew how easy it was for queer narratives to be consumed by the negativity. Dan wanted to acknowledge that negativity as a vital part of identity formation, but he refused to let it control or define the exhibit - or queerness - as a whole. 

The second section of the exhibit was art of queer people just being queer. There were paintings of same-sex couples, parodies of famous works but gayer, photographs of same-sex weddings and dates and kisses, and queer domestic scenes just like any other era of art might have with couples and families. It was a celebration and normalization of the joy queer people have the capacity to know. This was Dan’s favourite section.

The third and final section was all about pride. Pride flags, pride parades, pride colours, proud defiance of the society that had worked so hard to deny even the existence of the LGBT+ community for generations. This art was like a living thing, practically screaming “We’re Here! We’re Queer!” 

On the wall near the exit to the exhibit were a blank canvas and an array of markers. Next to the canvas was a panel explaining the intention: direct interaction with the exhibit. The canvas was for signatures of the people that came through the gallery, be they queer or an ally. A second panel was nearby to summarize the exhibit; Dan had written this one, too. He wanted a personal message to tell people that their identities were valid and could not be stripped away. 

_The future is clear: It’s pretty queer_.

Dan stared at what he had written for a long moment before Phil joined him.

“It all looks amazing to me,” Phil whispered. “What do you think?”

What did Dan think? He couldn’t say. He was too overwhelmed to think. All he knew was that it was perfect, so he just nodded. 

“Then how about we put in the finishing touch, hm?” Phil gestured to the canvas. “After you.” 

Dan nodded again and approached the bucket of markers, pulling out as many different colours as possible. In rainbow order, he wrote “Daniel Howell”, then stepped back so Phil could do the same with his own name. 

When he was done, Phil put the markers back and walked to the front of the exhibit to speak with the exhibit technicians, still anxiously waiting for approval. Dan barely registered the movement, instead letting his feet carry him back to the middle section of the exhibit as if in a trance. 

The black-and-white photograph of the men waltzing, the photograph that had captured Dan’s eye and reassured him enough to create all of this, rested in a neat frame. A happy moment in time, captured for future generations to see. 

In the background, Dan was dimly aware of the sound of Phil dismissing the technicians for the night and footsteps. A few moments later, Phil’s shoulder brushed against his own.

They stared at the photograph in silence for a long while. Dan’s expression was completely blank as he drowned in his emotions and thoughts until he finally spoke.

“As a teenager, this would have been exactly what I needed. The photo, I mean. Just this small promise that there’s hope out there for someone like me.”

Phil nodded but didn’t say anything. Dan continued after a short pause.

“I was so alone back then. I didn’t understand anything that was going on and I was terrified. This picture sort of reminds me of that, I guess. But not in a bad way.” Dan bit his lower lip, then slowly rolled it back out from between his teeth. “I’m infinitely happier now than I was then, I think, so seeing this now and remembering back then has me recognizing how much better it’s gotten. I had no hope then, but I’m essentially living what I would have hoped for.” The first of many tears rolled down Dan’s cheek as he turned his head to look at Phil.

Phil was already looking at him, eyes soft and lips turned up in a small smile. He reached out a hand and brushed away the tears.

“Thank you, Phil,” Dan choked out, then cleared his throat. He _would_ get through this and say what he had to say. “You’ve been so helpful throughout this whole process. This exhibit is a dream come true and I can’t imagine having done it without you.”

“Oh, Dan,” Phil whispered, slipping his hand into Dan’s. “Thank you for letting me be part of something so important and personal to you. It’s been an honour, truly.”

A sob escaped Dan’s lips and Phil cooed. He gently tugged Dan forward into a hug, running a hand through curls as he tucked Dan’s face into his neck. 

It was a while before Dan calmed down enough to step out of the hug, but eventually he noticed the cramp in his back from bending and leaning into Phil and had to stop.

“Let’s go ‘round mine for some hot chocolate, yeah?” Phil offered, and Dan nodded his agreement with a weak smile. 

Not long later, they were giggling as they clambered awkwardly out of a cab, still holding hands since the gallery. They had to let go to make the chocolate and get comfortable on Phil’s sofa, but Dan replaced the hand-holding with cuddling right up into Phil’s side, his head resting on Phil’s chest and his feet curled up beneath him.

They sipped their hot chocolates quietly for a while, placing the empty mugs on the coffee table when they were done. Dan supposed he should probably get off of Phil and head home, but he couldn’t make himself move. He was entirely too comfortable and enjoyed Phil’s company too much to get up now.

Phil seemed to feel the same way, as he snaked his arms around Dan and pulled him closer. Dan’s brown eyes met Phil’s blue ones and he forgot how to breathe. Phil’s eyes were trained on his own with the fondest expression he’d ever seen, and then they dropped down to his lips briefly before returning to his eyes. For a tense moment, Dan thought nothing would come of it, but then he saw Phil lean in slowly, eyelids drifting closed, and their lips met softly in the middle. They parted after only a few seconds.

Dan knew that they’d have to talk, figure out what this was, but for now all that mattered was how much he liked Phil and how much Phil clearly liked him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dan cried again when they opened the gallery the next day. He couldn’t help it; it was his major curatorial debut and he’d gone and done something extremely personally significant. He couldn’t keep his emotions under control in the slightest and it was horrifically embarrassing. Phil was standing very close next to him and was in the prime place to witness Dan’s breakdown, but he still hoped that Phil wouldn’t notice. Of course, he was never that lucky. 

Moments after the first tear rolled down Dan’s cheek, a hand brushed against his own. Surprised, Dan turned to look but immediately cursed himself; he’d just faced Phil directly and now there’d be no hiding his embarrassment. 

He looked away again as fast as possible and pretended to be intensely focused on fixing the rainbow flag pin on his lapel. 

“Hey,” Phil murmured, leaning in to make sure Dan could hear. “It’s okay.” His fingers slipped between Dan’s so they were holding hands and squeezed gently. 

Another fat tear escaped. “No, I’m just being ridiculous. I already did this yesterday and-”

“No way,” Phil insisted. “I cried for my first exhibit, too. This has been building for you for years, it’s okay to show a little emotion.” 

Dan swallowed thickly, careful not to choke out his response. “It’s not just about it being my first exhibit, though. You know that. I’m caught up in thinking about how much I would have loved this growing up, and the people this could help now that it’s here and-” he took a shuddery breath. “It means a lot.” He glanced back at Phil through his lashes, not quite willing to look at him directly yet.

A soft smile played at Phil’s lips, one that told Dan that he understood completely. 

“I’m so proud of you,” Phil whispered. 

Those few words broke the dam and suddenly tears were streaming down Dan’s face, uncontrollable. 

“I’m- I-” Dan squeaked. “I need a minute.” He pulled his hand out of Phil’s and raced to the nearest toilet, hiding away to regain control of his emotions. 

He’d been so busy recently that he hadn’t had the time to process anything. The last month had been absolutely frantic, full of throwing together the final key parts of the exhibit and swapping things around and navigating this growing relationship with Phil. It had finally all caught up to him, slapping him in the face with so many realizations and feelings that it was hard to make sense of it all.

All he could say for certain was that he was happy. Obnoxiously, blindingly happy.

**Author's Note:**

> I also post to my Tumblr! See the rest of my fics [here](https://whiskersandquiff.tumblr.com/fics-masterlist)


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